Light filled him. Blazing warmth, searing heat hotter than anything he had felt before…He? Who was he? What was he? Light, pure light and heat, like gigantic furnaces…
One Month Later
Captain Tallanvor knelt down on his knee, his hand on the hilt of the sword strapped to his belt and his eyes lowered as he knelt before the Queen of Andor, Morgase of the House of Trakand. She was a beautiful woman dressed in a blue dress, silver threads sewn in beautifully as they gave the Queen an exotic air to her. Right now her face was serene and calm, like the calm before the storm. She sat on her golden throne, the Lion throne that all Queens sat on. She waved him up and Tallanvor stood, his back straight
Standing next to her was Gareth Byrne, a man with hard eyes and greying hair, while sitting on her left was Elaida, the Queens Aes Sedai advisor and on her right was Elayne, dressed as finely as the Queen was in blue skirts and a fur scarf.
"I am interested to know why you were in Shienar in the first place? And how you came upon this information about this army of Trollocs." Morgase said calmly, her head held high.
Gareth Byrne shifted at her side, while her daughter gripped the arms of her chair tightly, her face blank. Tallanvor had been bought straight to the Queen when he had arrived back in Caemlyn with his horsemen and had immediately reported the imminent danger.
"My Queen, I ordered Captain Tallanvor to depart to Shienar to retrieve a Queens Guard named Rand al'Thor. If you may recall, Rand al'Thor was once…" Gareth began.
"I know who Rand al'Thor is Gareth." Morgase cut in sharply and Gareth bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Light knows how many rumours and stories have surrounded him since the Myrddraal attacked my daughter. Walk into one bar and he fought and killed half a dozen Fades, walk into another and he is actually a Royal Prince of the Throne."
"She will be a powerful Aes Sedai, as powerful as any in one thousand years." Elaida said absently as she bent over in her knitting. "The shadow will, of course, fear her."
Morgase compressed her lips but nodded at Elaida's words. "Why did you seek out Rand al'Thor?" She asked Gareth.
Gareth opened his mouth as Elayne cut in hurriedly, her hands folded in her lap submissively and her head bent. "I asked him to, Mother." She spoke timidly. Her eyes were anything but timid, shining with defiance and determination.
Morgase gave a twisted file, her face filled with amusement and resignation. "Elayne, you should…oh, what some women will do for the men they love."
"Mother!" Elayne squeaked out, her cheeks flushing as she darted her eyes around nervously. They came to rest on Tallanvor, who flinched as he averted his own. Guilt ran through him, guilt and sadness for Elayne. Elayne noticed his expression and her blush faded, her face growing pale. Her hands clutched the armrests of her chair as she leant forward, wide eyes boring at Tallanvor.
"Where is he?" She asked calmly.
Tallanvor closed his eye, dropping his head and the expression of grief on his face made the news clear enough. Elayne leant back, her hands covering her mouth as horror and misery filled her eyes and face.
"No!" She whispered hoarsely.
"My Lady, Lord Rand al'Thor fell in combat against the Shadow." Tallanvor informed gravely.
Tears filled Elayne's eyes as Gareth and Morgase looked upon her with sympathy alight on their faces.
"Elayne, perhaps you should go to your rooms. I will send Mistress Lini to…" Morgase started gently, her eyes regarding her daughter with pity and sympathy.
"What happened?" Elayne whispered to Tallanvor. She struggled to keep her calm composure as she breathed in deeply, squaring her shoulders as she gazed upon Tallanvor with barely concealed grief.
Morgase and Gareth turned to Tallanvor, even Elaida looked up sharply from her knitting, her hands still.
"My Lady, it is a strange tale but bare with me. I swear that it is true, on my honour as a Queens Man. It all started when I discovered that Lord Rand…"
"Lord Rand?" Morgase asked sharply. "Had the boy became a Lord when I was not looking?"
"My Queen, a friend of mine once said that it is ones actions that show Lordship. All of the Noble Houses started off as soldiers, or farmers, or men and women who did something incredible. Rand al'Thor was a Lord." Tallanvor said firmly.
Morgase nodded slowly, gesturing for Tallanvor to continue. He opened his mouth, the sound of his own voice filling the void of silence for hours to come.
Time must have passed…vague and unsettling thoughts flashed through him…Light, terrible and burning light…an avalanche of power…adrift in a sea…warmth, the brilliant warmth…
"He is dead?" Amys asked sharply. The blistering heat lingered in the air as the sun set slowly across the west, the last rays on sunlight still hot enough to burn most Wetlanders. Aviendha and Enaila stood stiffly in front of Amys and Melanie, two influential Wise Ones, and at least a hundred of women, all Maidens of the Spear.
After leaving the Blight from the Green Man's garden, Aviendha and Enaila had met up with their other travelling companions and had journeyed back past the Spine of the World and into the Aiel Waste.
"He fell in the Bringer of Life's gardens, fighting powerful enemies with awesome powers." Enaila said. The redhead was strangely subdued for one with such a temper, but Aviendha was the worse. At times she was be meek and quiet, not talking unless she was spoken to, at other times she was as fierce as a Wise One and a tongue that would carve into the ego's of the biggest and grandest kings in history.
"Our brother is dead? Our son is dead?" Sulin, a white haired Maiden of the Spear with a scar on her face asked slowly.
"Leafblighters army is led by the one who killed him. The army is large, Shadowrunners and Shadowbeasts in numbers of million. The one who killed Rand will lead the army to the nation of Shienar, crushing them easily. Leafblighter will rule the wetlands." Enaila explained.
Sulin looked startled for a moment, her sun-tanned face frowning. Clearly she was weighing the options, Wetlanders ruling the wetlands of Leafblighter ruling the wetland. But the man leading the army killed the only son of the Maidens to have ever returned. Slowly, she drummed her spear on her buckler. Another joined her, and another and another, and soon the camp was filled with the booming beat of spears crashing against bucklers.
Amys raised her hand and the noise quietened instantly, her eyes still fixed on Aviendha and Enaila. "You two. Tell me…tell us all what happened."
Aviendha spoke up for the first time, her green-blue eyes emotionless. "We tracked him to the Wetlander nation of Shienar, in the trees of the north…"
Where was he? What was he? Who was he? Light…there was so much light…and heat…there was heat and warmth and light…burning light…
"Daddy!"
"Jania!"
Lord Dremenden looked up from the Lord's table at Fal Dara and jumped from his seat, bounding down and taking giant leaps forward as a small red blur zoom forward, crashing into him and grabbing him around the neck. The next moment, Lord Dremenden crushed the small body of his daughter to his chest as he lifted her up from the ground, whirling her around as he smiled through tears of joy.
"Oh Jania! My precious Jania!" Lord Dremenden howled in glee. "You're alive!"
Jania said nothing, her face buried in her fathers shoulder as she cried, sobbing and wailing as it all came out of her. She was safe now; she was back with her father.
Lord Agelmar watched with a satisfied and beaming smile, standing up as he gazed upon the site of his dear friend reunited with his daughter. The other Lords and Ladies stood as well, applauding with cheers and yells of congratulations and happiness as Lady Dremenden rushed down to her daughter, her poise forgotten as she enveloped both Lord Dremenden with a bone crushing hug.
Lord Dremenden didn't know how long he held his daughter and wife in the middle of the floor with the applauds of the other nobles, but he finally stood back as he gazed at the frail and sickly form of his daughter.
"We will have to fatten you up," He teased Jania, who said nothing as she lay in her mothers arms. He noticed Huin slink through the doors, his faithful tracker and armsmen and with a huge smile he grabbed the man by the shoulders, laughing widely.
"You did it!" He yelled happily, mirth and joy in his voice. "I shall give you anything you want, anything? But first, where is Lord al'Thor?"
Huin looked uncomfortable as he flinched, stepping back as if he had been struck. "Um...Lord Dremenden, Lord Rand…um…well…he's dead." He stammered out, grief pouring into his face.
Lord Dremenden stood still, bowing his head. "The man gave his life to save my daughter…"
"And Jack, and Irvine and Katalia!" Jania said, her voice muffled though her mother's breast as she curled up like an infant.
"My Lord, maybe you should hear the whole story. It is…strange; I can't believe we went through it. But it was Lord Rand who did most of it…no, My Lord, I need to tell you what happened?"
"Sit in my seat." Lord Dremenden urged, pushing the man forward to the table with the nobles. Huin squirmed under so many expectant gazes as he was forced to sit down in his Lord's chair. "I will stand, and tonight, I will wait on you as you tell me how my daughter was saved…"
A single thread was all that held him up…deep-seated warmth that filled the core of his bones… Brilliant and blinding Light…erasing everything else…
Alanna walked through the bustling town of Tar Valon, her footsteps automatic as her mind wandered. The hollow loss in her mind was almost unbearable, threatening to overwhelm her at anytime. Three Warder bonds all forcibly severed would have driven a lesser woman insane or into a blubbering mess, but Alanna would not rest until she had seen the Amyrilan Seat.
She approached the White Tower and nearly collapsed with relief and exhaustion. The looming white building cast a strong presence on Alanna, and she lurched wearily to the gates. The Tower Guards eyed her suspiciously but her face and ring let her pass though they wrinkled their noses in disgust at her appearance.
Alanna looked down at herself. Her green silks were green no longer, covered in dirt, grime, dried blood, and torn and ripped badly. Her hair was a mess, covered in muck, and her face was gritty. She walked through the gardens, heading for the main buildings.
"Alanna?" asked a cautious voice. Alanna turned her head to see Estelle, an Aes Sedai of the green Ajah with golden hair and firm blue eyes approach her cautiously. "Alanna? Light, it is you! What happened? Where are Owein and Ihvon?"
"They're dead," Alanna mumbled. "All dead. All three of them, killed by the shadow."
"Oh Alanna," Estelle murmured in horror. Next to her, a large well-built man stood silently, but his face showed brief sadness as the mention of the dead warders. Estelle's Warder and Alanna's Warders had been close friends.
"I need to see the Amyrilan," Alanna said as Estelle lead her into the building.
"First let's get you washed up," Estelle said firmly as she directed Alanna to the dormitories. A passing pair of novices eyed her curiously and one had a look of revulsion on her face as Alanna passed.
Estelle noticed this and scowled at the two, and they dropped curtsies hurriedly, their heads down until the two Aes Sedai had passed.
"No…the Amyrilan…" Alanna protested feebly as Estelle entered a room. A large bed lay in the centre of it and an adjoining room led off into an empty bathtub.
"Devron, get the servants to get warm water in here." Estelle said to her Warder, who left quickly as Estelle held Alanna, who shivered.
"They died Estelle. Owein died to a creature, some kind of large cat…the Blight changed it, made it powerful and deadly. I felt the teeth that bit into him, the claws that sliced into his skin. Ihvon died to a Myrddraal, it just cut him down with a single stroke. I felt that too. I wonder if his soul will enter the Wheel of Time properly. He died so close to Shayol Ghul, I fear that the Dark One could harm his soul."
Estelle stared at her friend, her face surprised and shocked as Alanna blubbered on. Four servants entered the room holding a bucket of steaming water in each hand. As they tipped the water into the bath, Alanna continued ranting.
"Have you ever seen Shayol Ghul Estelle? I know that in our oath of the Green Ajah, we are to be prepared for the Final Battle at Shayol Ghul, but how can we win? The buildings we can destroy, there are little defences. But the feeling, the aura, the sheer evil the emanates from the mountain…"
One of the servants, a pale slender girl, dropped one of the empty buckets, staring at Alanna with fear and shock.
"Leave!" Estelle barked angrily at the servants. They hurried from the room, the bath full with water.
"Rand…he didn't fall to the end. I wondered if it was a mistake bonding him…but in the end, it didn't matter. Power, so much power flowed through him at the end. It was an avalanche of power and all he could do was cling to the roots as it dragged him in. He tried to hold on, but he couldn't and then he was gone."
Estelle made soothing noises as she bathed Alanna. Dirt and grime turned the water dark and filthy, but Estelle used the One Power to cleanse it and dry Alanna's hair as she brushed it back.
Alanna leant back, her eyes closed as she rested. The exhaustion was in her bones, she needed to rest. But…
"I need to see the Amyrilan." Alanna said, her dark eyes opening. They bore into Estelle's, and they glinted with panic and resolve as she struggled up.
"Alright. Let's get dressed first, then we shall see the Amyrilan." Estelle said soothingly.
Ten minutes later, a cleanly washed and dressed Alanna approached the double doors of the study of the Amyrilan Seat. Alanna ignored the Keeper of Chronicles, who tried to stop them from entering. She barged in, and the Amyrilan looked up from her desk.
"Daughter, what is the meaning of this?" She demanded.
"Mother, I have urgent news. A host of Trollocs, a size not seen since the Trolloc Wars, is coming for Tarwin's Gap. There are at least a million, Mother. I need to tell you, to warn you!"
The Amyrilan eyed her shrewdly as Estelle hurried in, followed by the Keeper of the Chronicles.
"Mother," Estelle bowed. "I found her entering the White Tower, dirty and bloodied. I washed her and clothed her but she insisted in coming to you."
"So I see." The Amyrilan remarked dryly. "Tell me Daughter," she said as she focused back on Alanna. "How did you come by this information?
"I saw the army leave Shayol Ghul itself." Alanna replied tiredly. She seemed to be swaying on her feet.
"Shayol Ghul?" The Amyrilan remarked sharply and not it a little amazement. "How did you come to be at that foul place?"
Alanna took a deep breath, ignoring her tiredness as she opened her mouth. Once she had told her story, then she could rest.
Three Months Later
There were nine threads that tied him from the Light…burning and beautiful, searing yet blissfully intoxicating…warmth, beautiful and seductive warmth…It will take time…Light, oh, the endless sea of light!
"A million Trollocs," Lord Agelmar said grimly. "We are doomed."
Lord Dremenden, who had been standing silently at his friend's side within the sunlight of Fal Dara, spoke up. ""We have fortified the Towers at Tarwin's gap."
"It will not be enough," Agelmar sighed wearily, the grey in his hair even more pronounced these days.
"We have two hundred thousand men guarding the Towers, with seventy thousand horses." Lord Dremenden informed Agelmar grimly. "Only a scattering remains in Shienar."
"My Lord?" A grey robed servant called as he approached Lord Agelmar. "There is an Andorran by the name of Lieutenant-Captain Tallanvor asking for you?"
"Was he not the one who accompanied Lord Rand into the Blight to rescue your daughter?" Agelmar asked Dremenden, who nodded. "Very well, bring him to me," He ordered the servant.
A few minutes later, the servant returned with a man of average height. His armour gleamed in the sunlight and two golden knots adorned his shoulders.
"I am Lieutenant-Captain Tallanvor, My Lords." Tallanvor greeted as he bowed. "By the order of Queen Morgase, Queen of Andor, I am to approach Lord Agelmar with an offer of one hundred thousand men in order to defend Tarwin's gap from the host of Trollocs that are making their way towards it."
Lord Agelmar and Lord Dremenden exchanged startled looks, just as the servant returned, appearing flustered.
"Ah…My Lord? There is a women that has claimed…" He started, just as a short woman with black tresses and dark eyes approached, dressed in fine green silks. She held herself regally and her face had the look of agelessness to it.
"I am Alanna, of the Green Ajah." She introduced herself. "By the order of the Amyrilan Seat of the White Tower, I am here to inform Lord Agelmar that three hundred of my Sisters and twenty thousand of the Tower Guard will be fortifying Tarwin's gap in response to information of a large Trolloc host approaching."
Lord Agelmar and Lord Dremenden exchanged another set of startled looks, but hope had refilled thier eyes.
Eight Months since the death of Rand al'Thor
It was a rope now…all tightly joined and bound…his mind was held back from the Light…burning…blinding…searing heat…He knew his name…Rand al'Thor…bones warmed from the chill…intoxicating and seductive…compulsive…swallow it all, take it all in…what had happened? It was blurry…his mind wandered…there was something here with him…smooth stone clutched in one hand, an object in the other…Power, so much power…Invincible, immortal…challenge the Creator…challenge the Dark One…the brilliant and beautiful light…Smooth symbols…runes of some sort…at the bottom of the Eye…What if he…
Slayer grunted in acknowledgment as a Trolloc cowered at the entrance of his tent. Trollocs were lazy creatures, only ever killing with enthusiasm. They would only grovel and obey when they feared the one giving the orders. Myrddraal worked well enough for that, but the Trollocs could sense the Great Lord's touch in Slayer and feared him almost as much as Ba'alzamon himself.
"The world will be mine!" Slayer hissed to himself as he tugged on a black glove. For a moment, he stared into the mirror in his luxurious tent. His reflection stared back at him and Slayer let a loose smile curve on his lips. It had taken a long time to recover from the incident at the Eye of the World. He had drawn more of the True Source, the essence of the Great Lord, than he had ever done so before, and his body had paid the price. And the Saidin that al'Thor had wielded had not helped at all.
But he had recovered now, his body in prime health. He didn't know what side effects he had been warned about when he had been given the power to draw from the True Source. He was perfectly sane and healthy. For a moment, the mirrors face curved into a mask of animalistic rage and furnaces burnt in its eyes. Slayer growled angrily and slammed his fist into the glass, which shattered.
He ignored the blood that dripped from his hand as he walked from his tent. He had just taught that fool a lesson, now he would teach those who dare oppose the Great Lord a similar lesson, by crushing them with his hands.
"Myrddraal, are the ranks formed?" He asked in the silent breeze.
Ranks upon ranks upon ranks of Trollocs stood dead still, hundreds of thousands of them in formation. At the rear, another four hundred thousand waited in reserve, black-cloaked Myrddraal sitting on black stallions.
"Yes, My Lord," One Myrddraal said in a hissing voice, low and deep.
"Charge." Slayer said, smiling slightly as the Myrddraal leading each battalion started galloping ahead, hordes of Trollocs bellowing war cries as their banners flew in the air. Swarms of them sprinted as fast as any horse, guttural growls leaping from their throats as they stormed out of the valley in one giant flood of bodies and steel, swarming into Tarwin's gap and in sight the seven towers that stood erect at the battlements on the other side of the gap.
Slayer smirked darkly, lazily stretching his arms as he considered going back inside and finishing off his wine. Suddenly he stiffened as he whirled around, his head facing the faint forms of the last of the Trollocs going over the rocky hills.
"No!" He hissed angrily.
"Archers, prepare to fire!" Gareth Byrne yelled from atop the largest tower of the fort at Tarwin's Gap. Archers had formed ranks behind the large stonewalls, with pikeman standing guard. There were tens of thousands of archers and tens of thousands of pikeman. It was the largest army of men that the world had seen for a thousand years.
"Archers, nock your bows!" Lord Agelmar roared, standing next to the Andorran Captain-General. Lancers, the Shienar name for horseman carrying wicked barbed spears, grouped in the front of the walls, armour gleaming brightly as they stared emotionless at the charging horse. Aes Sedai stood in clustered groups in all of the towers, exactly thirty-nine Aes Sedai on each tower, linking as they embraced Saidar. Three groups of thirteen Aes Sedai on each tower channelled, linking with each other. The swarm of Trollocs swallowed the bare earth as they grew closer and closer, until the first of them were in archer range.
"Fire!" Lord Agelmar and Gareth Byrne yelled in once voice, their voices repeated by the officers down below.
From behind the walls came a gigantic wall of arrows, shot over the walls and into the air. They soared upwards and upwards, gaining height until they all seemed to freeze in the air. A dark shadow passed over Tarwin's gap, the flood of arrows blotting out the sun, before the descended as gravity took hold of them.
Slayer watched far away from a small hill as the first wave of arrows descended. Thousands of Trollocs died instantly and he growled angrily, his rage growing every second.
"This wasn't mean to be like this!" He howled, his voice taking on the sounds of two. Suddenly realisation flooded into him and he stopped moving, his face contorted with rage. "Rand al'Thor! This is his doing! He bent the pattern…Damn him! The Great deliver agony onto your soul, al'Thor!"
Clouds grew overhead, dark billowy clouds appearing from nowhere. Lightning flashed once as thunder shot through the air, a light rain starting to fall. Slayer ignored the rain as lightning bolts burst from the clouds, one after the other. Trollocs fell, struck by the powerful energy, while a second volley of arrows struck the next ranks. Within seconds, over twenty thousand Trollocs were dead! Fireballs erupted from the towers, sometimes as large as a building, and they blasted the Trollocs apart. Earth rumbled and exploded violently in fountains of dirt as chasms appeared, flames flickering in the bottom of them. More Trollocs died, but they had gotten close enough to the fortress and ranks of horsemen charged down with their armoured horses and thick breastplates, carrying long lances. The arrows ceased as the horsemen broke apart the first rank of Trollocs. The sounds of fighting could be faintly heard from where Slayer was standing, and he clenched his fist as heat raced through him, addictive and overwhelming.
"Those blasted witches!" He snarled. "Myrddraal, send in the reserve Trollocs!"
The pounding ground indicated that his orders were being obeyed, but Slayer knew that he had lost this battel. Sure, he would kill thirty thousand men or so, maybe even an Aes Sedai or two, but he had lost. Damn that al'Thor! This wasn't mean to happen, the Aes Sedai were not meant to be here! The large numbers of men obviously waiting for him were not meant to be here!
As the four hundred thousand Trollocs charged up to their fighting comrades, grey forms flickered from the cliffs and spears slammed on bucklers. Aiel warriors, women and men, two hundred thousand of them, charged forward, roaring voices singing songs of war as spear clashed against sword.
Slayer closed his eyes in despair and anger. For half a moment, he though of going out there himself, but he quickly rejected the idea. The Aes Sedai were plentiful and would be able to sever his connection to the True Source if they saw him.
Several Hours later
Smooth stone…runes…pillar of some sorts…light…oh, the light…destinations, places…good, away from here…Warmth, muted and fading…pouring energy into it…anywhere at all…Light dimming…duller than before…energy racing through him…odd hollow sensation…sucking feeling…body compressing…travelling…changing…leaving…
Slayer stood alone on the hill. A million bodies littered Tarwin's gap, most of them were the bestial forms of Trollocs. Myrddraal bodies twitched as the sun started setting. But human bodies also lay on the ground, broken and beaten, some torn apart. He had suffered a great loss here.
"I was a fool!" He muttered outloud, his mind clear with clarity at the moment. "I was insane!" He snarled, trying to justify his failure. But he knew that the Great Lord would punish him for this.
On deserted grasslands, rich with plant life, the sun shone brightly as small clouds slowly blew through the deep blue sky. On the ground near a pillar of white stone with runes carved into it that glowed in a silver light, a boy about the age of seventeen lay on the ground. His shirt was torn, his pants ripped. Blood smeared his chest, two large gashes ripping into his skin. In one hand, he held a sword that was glowing with a silver light, the other, a small disc shaped item. Suddenly the boy gave a huge gasp for air, his grey eyes flicking open for a single second as his heart pounded, before they closed as he fell unconscious.
A/N- not a very good Battle scene, but I'm tired and I couldn't be bothered writing it out. Still, it gets the point across. Andor, Shienar and the Aiel defeated the Trollocs at Tarwin's gap.